opposite
Carrickfergus, close to the northern shore, she turned. Right in front
of her bows the water was suddenly broken. It was as if some one had
dropped a huge stone close to her. The spray of the splash must have
fallen on her fore deck.

"My God!" said Bland, "they're firing at her. Look! From the hill
above the town."

I could not look. My eyes were on the ship as she slowly turned. Her
side came gradually into view. Then, quite suddenly and for no
apparent reason, she staggered. I saw her list over heavily, right
herself again, and steam on.

"Hit!" said Bland. "Hit! Hit!"

He danced beside me with excitement.

Two puffs of smoke hung over the ship's decks, one forward, one aft,
and blew clear again. But this time we heard no shrieking shells. She
was firing, not at the town, but at the guns on the hill which
threatened and wounded her. Then her signal flags ran up again. Before
the answer came from the other ships the sea was broken twice close to
her. I looked to see her stagger from another blow, heel over, perhaps
sink. Her speed increased. In a minute she was rushing towards us,
flinging white waves from her great bows. Then she swept round once
more. Fire as well as smoke poured from her funnels. She steamed
eastwards down the lough. We saw her join the other ships far out. She
and they lay motionless together.

The crowd behind us began to sing their hymn again.

Bland and I left our lighthouse and went back towards the town. We
passed Bob and his men in their trench but they scarcely noticed us.
We pushed our way through the crowd. We passed the shipbuilding yard,
now full of eager people, discussing the departure of the ship,
canvassing the possibility of her coming back again.

"What guns have they on the Cave Hill?" said Bland.

"I don't know," I said. "I did not know that they had any guns."

"I wonder where they got them," said Bland. "I wonder who has command
of them."

I could answer, or thought I could answer, both questions. As we
struggled through the crowds which thronged the quay I told Bland of
the visits of the _Finola_ to our bay and of the piles of huge
packing-cases which Godfrey had shown me in the sheds behind the
store.

"But who fired them?" said Bland. "Who have you got who understands
them? Those were big guns."

"Malcolmson," I said, "always said he understood guns."

"He does," said Bland. "If he'd shot just the least shade better he'd
have sunk that ship."